


Excerpts from the Diary of Bellatrix Black

by journeytogallifrey



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death Eaters, F/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 21:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2444387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeytogallifrey/pseuds/journeytogallifrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Bella, Bella," he sighed, his voice a rasp, a freezing wind, a pitch-black dungeon. "What am I going to do with you? The others, they do not see. They act out of fear, of want for power to take for themselves. But you… you understand, do you not?"</p>
<p>I nodded eagerly. I could not help it; with him, my every emotion shows. He does not seem to mind.</p>
<p>"Only you and Barty understand, and only the two of you will hold true power in my new age."</p>
<p>I told him, "I have no want of power except that which will serve you."</p>
<p>And he trailed his fingers down my throat, an icy flame, and whispered, "That is exactly why you shall have it, my dear."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Excerpts from the Diary of Bellatrix Black

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a contest on HEX. Enjoy, and comment if you can! :)

Rodolphus knows. The fool.

I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me. Do I care? Ha! Let the pitiful man burn by my lack of favor. There are days when he begs me to sleep in his bed, to bear his children, but I would never contribute to the family line of anyone so weak.

The Dark Lord, on the other hand…

He has noticed me at last. Oh, he is beyond such things as bearing children, but still he wants me by his side, and I will fight for him until the last. My sweet Lord! There is a darkness in him that calls to me, sickly-saccharine, and excites me in ways I have never been excited before. I only wish to stay with him forever. And it seems that, at last, he will grant me this.

 

  
Today He called me into his study, completely alone (of course excepting his dear Nagini). I could barely stop squirming for anticipation. I felt as if I might jump out of my skin!

_You have been loyal,_ he told me, _my dear Bellatrix_ (his dear!) _, and loyalty must be rewarded._ He stood and put his hands on either side of my face (and where they rested they burn cool fire even now). _What is it you desire?_ he asked.

_Only to stay by your side, my Lord,_ I replied, and I knew I should look away – defer my gaze to the floor, his humble servant – but I was captivated by his eyes, so calculating and sure. He smiled. (Smiled! At me! And by Slytherin is his smile delicious. It was the same smile he gives when he is torturing, aimed not at the victim but at the rest of us, sharing in glorious delight.)

_Bella, Bella,_ he sighed, his voice a rasp, a freezing wind, a pitch-black dungeon. _What am I going to do with you? The others, they do not see. They act out of fear, of want for power to take for themselves. But you… you understand, do you not?_

I nodded eagerly. I could not help it; with him, my every emotion shows. He does not seem to mind.

_Only you and Barty understand, and only the two of you will hold true power in my new age._

I told him, _I have no want of power except that which will serve you._

And he trailed his fingers down my throat, an icy flame, and whispered, _That is exactly why you shall have it, my dear._

 

  
Barty Crouch Jr. That is who my Lord spoke of, when he talked of loyalties; and I cannot fault him for it. Barty is wonderful in many ways, so much more devoted than Rodolphus or any of the others, the only one who understands the truth. We alone can converse about so many things that our fellows would not comprehend.

But my Lord must know that I am the one he should turn to first. I am the one who – follows him, adores him to the very end, surely he knows? He mustn’t turn to Barty over me. I cannot help a stab of jealousy when they talk together, walk together. Just yesterday he called me his dear. That must mean something – right?

 

  
There is a chance that Lucius is correct, and I am finally going mad.

Not a blessed madness, to further serve my Lord, but a madness of the heart. For today I walked in on my Lord when he was returning from some encounter, bruised and bleeding, and seeing him in his weakness I did not turn away but –

Loved him.

Loved him even more.

I knelt before him and said, _I did not mean to interrupt,_ but he did not send me away. He just looked at me with old, weary eyes.

_There is much left to be fought,_ he told me, and then: _Are you afraid of me?_

_No,_ I answered with wide eyes. _Our enemies should be afraid, certainly, but I? I know that all you do is for the best. I am yours to command, yours with which to do whatever you wish_ – and then I quieted, worried I had said too much. But he smiled, almost sadly.

_If only the world thought as you do._ He was silent for a long moment, inspecting the wounds on his arm, and when he spoke again it was almost to himself. _But they will learn. They will pay for what they did. They will pay for what I have discovered today._

I did not ask; my Lord’s business is his own. I just knelt there on the cold stone, not moving even when I began to shiver, waiting on his order. Finally I felt a touch on my chin and looked up to find him standing just before me. Already he had healed his wounds. I could practically taste the afterglow of his magic in the air, power and brimstone, a tangible thing. There, in his chambers, by his side, I was in the throes of ecstasy.

He stroked my hair almost absentmindedly. I closed my eyes and leaned into the touch. The perfect moment.

And then he turned sharply away. _I will see you at dinner,_ his tone dismissive, and I stood and came up to my guest room and wrote this down frantically, an old cracked inkpot drying out in my hands, the stub of a candle burning out on the table.

It is time for dinner, with Lucius and Barty and Regulus and the rest and – Him.

I must dress to impress.

 

  
My Lord is the singular point around which turns the vast weight of the universe.

I have always been better at pain than at poetry, but for him… for him my heart has written a thousand songs.

He spirals darkly through the world, leaving change in his wake, and I – I am changed for the better. I am stronger, more disciplined. I am utterly his.

The thought of his bidding consumes me. I must never disappoint. I will fight for every small acknowledgement, every scrap of praise, and when the war is over I will continue to serve his empire until the very last breath – if I do not give my life in the fight, gladly.

The first time he walked into the room…

The first time I saw him, I knew right then that he was the man I must follow. It was so clear. Even Rodolphus saw it, his power, his weight; the fact that we were at a turning point in history, right near the center, an opportunity opening just for us, just in that second. Immediately I rushed to his side and hovered just out of reach, waiting to see if he would notice me. I did not want to push. I called to him from afar, silently, and when he answered it was as if my whole life came together, just in that moment.

He spoke his name: _Voldemort._

Delicious on the tongue. I danced in the sound of it, the ominous _V_ , the rounded _M_ , the quick _T_ – the name of the future. He spoke mine in return, at first my maiden name, and in that moment I was sure he knew, could see who I truly was. Bellatrix Black, always and forever. Unless. Unless he allowed me to take his name.

But those foolish fancies soon dissipated as I learned how utterly unworthy I was, unworthy to breathe his air, unworthy to hear his silver voice.

Still he chose me!

And when he burned his Mark into my arm with the tip of his wand, there in front of all of them, I laughed and laughed until tears were streaming down my face, eyes never leaving his, my gaze (I’m sure) adoring. That was the beginning of Bellatrix.

He was my beginning. And just as surely, he will be my end.  


 

More torture today. Such fun! Taking a family of Muggleborns, holding them in the air above the table and carving evidences of their filthy insides into their skin. I laughed as I worked and my Lord smiled at me, only at me, not even sparing a glance for Barty. Their blood rained down upon me and my love in turn. In my triumph I may have been too eager, snapped their necks too soon; but still, I do believe he was proud.

That is, after all, what I live for.

 

  
My cousin Sirius was in the battle today. I chased him through the wreckage of the town until my Lord called me back with a delicious searing of my arm. As I approached I was contrite, eyes cast downward, feeling the taint of that Muggle-loving traitor in my blood.

_I do not understand how such a man could have come from the same line as such a woman,_ he said with a gesture to me. _But the corruption of Muggles and their ilk may reach into any house. Tell me, dear Bella, what will you do to him if you have the chance?_

_I will break him,_ I cackled, all glee. _I will hold him down and cut him open and destroy him._

_And then?_

_And then,_ I announced, in front of them all, _I will kill the disgusting blood traitor where he lies._

_That,_ said my Lord, _is the true way._

And when he smiled at us all, I could almost pretend it was just at me, just for me. I take what he gives. I take what I can get.

 

  
Today Rodolphus spoke up against me. I hexed him into the wall.

Afterwards, I went to Voldemort and he sat me at his right hand.

In his presence, I could almost forget all that had come before.

 

  
I do not recognize the girl in the mirror, and I am glad.

  
Her eyes are black, her hair in disarray. She does not care for the pureblood etiquette she was brought up to, for it only gets in her way. She does not care for the feelings of other humans, only for the one who is not truly human at all, the Lord to whom she has sworn her love and her lifeblood.

  
Is this the future I pictured when I was small?  
No. No, this is better.

 

  
  
I scramble at His robes, I kiss His feet.

Once I told him I loved him, and he only smiled.

It is worth it. All of this is worth it.

It has to be.

 

  
  
Severus disdains me. Lucius calls me mad both to my face and to my back. Rodolphus’s devotion wanes day by day, and he turns from me, accustomed to his empty bed.

It matters not.

My Lord will never leave me. He is the sun and the moon and the stars, the setting and the awakening, the beginning and the end. He knows me, he needs me, he loves me!

Surely this is true.

My Lord must love me.

Mustn’t he?


End file.
